Zerg in Octarius
by Kaelha
Summary: The Zerg are rushing towards Octarius with plans on devouring everything. What will happen if the Zerg succeed in merging with the Tyranid and the Orks? With only one lonely Inquisitior and her retinue knowing of the Zerg menace will the Imperium be doomed to not be able to stop them?


For those of you who have been following war of the 3rd millenium welcome back! I'm really happy to be continuing the story. For those of you haven't read war of the 3rd millenium welcome aboard. Don't worry you don't need to read the other fic to understand this one, although some of the nuances/jokes might evade you at first. 40K is a whole different beast to starcraft so this is going to be narrated differently, and for the most part there are going to be different characters. That should help getting everyone up to speed. That is also one reason why I flagged this as M instead of T as I did the war of the 3rd millenium, I won't recreate in blood and gore though (till khorne comes out :P).

Remember that 40k and its universe is owned by Games Workshop and Starcraft by blizzard. Also Bugklaw (a certain warboss, and tiny bitty spoiler) was originally conceived by Vexmaster for his Swarm of War fic, it is included here with explicit permission.

As with war of the 3rd millenium you may use characters that I write if you ask for permission and give credit.

That said, here, have a read.

* * *

><p><strong>Space Hulk Ishimura<strong>

≡**][≡**

"Give me the Emperor's Peace, brother."

The voice was wet with blood, goblets of red dribbled from Sergeant Taltos' mouth as he spoke. The red messed the ruined skin and the black armor, giving it a fluid appearance that contrasted with the stiffness of broken bones. Apothecary Ernst of the Red Scorpions looked in the fiery eyes of his Sergeant, seeing how little by little the spark was fleeting from them. Soon he would find the Emperor's peace by himself. Ernst remembered a time when he would had not doubted to given him the shot, taking Taltos' life with ease. The Mortifactor Sergeant had been a pain in the ass since the Apothecary had taken his Vigil. Many nights on training he had almost let a loose bolter round in his direction. Now united through the tests of battle he couldn't help but pause.

"Your soul shall find its way to the Ultimate Warrior. I'll ensure your seed returns to Posul."

With a dull sound the Narthecium's penetrated through the Sergeant's temples giving him a swift, and as painless as the Apothecary was capable of administering, to the late Mortifactor. Without pause and with drilled efficiency Ernst took his Narthecium mechanical saw to the black chest armor, cutting through revealing the meat below. The corruption had extended, faster than anyone would have believed possible, while the multi-lung was barely operational the original lungs had been bloated with a green fungi to the point of explosion. Several green tendrils had torn through the black carapace, eating the Mortifactor from inside. A less thorough Apothecary might have deemed the gene-seed unsalvageable but he was a member of the Red Scorpions deemed worthy of donning the Deathwatch's black, his honor and his chapter's honor was on the line. He would save what could be saved.

As he used the Reductor to extract and store the progenoids gene-seed the Apothecary looked around himself. Ancalagon of the Black Dragons was busy examining one of the ork dead while Argus of the Marines Errant had already advanced through the corridor trying to find a safe passage across the space hulk.

"Apothecary, look at this."

Ernst didn't have much consideration for Black Dragon, in the Red Scorpion eyes the long bone claws and crest marked him as not much better than a mutant. Ancalagon paid back referring to him only by his rank. For a moment Ernst considered calling for discipline, after all the death of the Sergeant put him in command, but then discarded it preferring the familiar disrespect.

He moved towards the assault marine and looked at what the long sharp claw pointed. The ork had a long set of stitches across his chest. That in itself wasn't uncommon, orks' endurance is legendary surviving not only crippling battles but the crazed interventions thereafter. What was uncommon was the fact that apparently the creature's whole left arm had been patched into it. With curiosity the Apothecary looked at the few scattered ork bodies. They had all two things in common, the white hand glyph and the stitches. Closer examination revealed slight differences in coloration among the body parts, and minute signs of mutation in the main bodies. Their equipment was also uncommon; dirty bombs, like the one who had outdone the Sergeant and force them all to wear their helmets, and what appeared to be a torn sharp claw, as long as their own arms with a crude bony handle. It was under that scrutiny that the Marine Errant found him.

"They are unclean, even for orks. I don't know what to make of it. But we need to keep moving. Argus which way?"

"This corridor forks up ahead into two of them. Both though have the floors covered in an orange organic substance. It appears to be quite brittle and I am sure that our hosts might feel a disturbance in it. I would advice to try to avoid it altogether."

"We cannot fall back. We must complete the mission."

"I know. I would suggest we go upwards, through the pipes. According to the original plans of the Ishimura the air – vents were made to fit servitor engineers, and conveniently they shall be big enough for ourselves."

"Good enough for me. Argus lead from the front, Ancalagon stay at the back you are our close combat expert if something comes after us in those tunnels show them why."

Before following suit the Marine Errant knelt besides Taltos' dead body and intoned a short litany. There wasn't love lost between the two descendants of Guilliman, the Mortifactor's adherence to their own traditions had merited them little respect among more Codex adherent chapters, but they had fought together for a long time. With reverence Argus took the sergeant's power sword.

"I'll make sure this is returned to the Chapter sergeant."

Then, after securing the unpowered weapon to his back, he pulled himself up atop the pipes. The old metal squeaked under his weight, but held. The rest of the squad followed.

The Space Hulk known as Ishimura had been once a mighty exploration vessel, capable of eating asteroids whole, cracking them open for resources, and even piercing whole worlds as a hungered carrion bird. At its peak it's technology had been amply studied and barely understood, but know had just a shade. Millenia ago it had been lost in the warp, it's choir mute and it's navigator blind. The martian fleets had tolled in mourning for the passing of such fine vessel. It had been deemed irrecoverable.

Its maps though had been noted down with fine detail, and it was those that allowed the Kill – Team to safely navigate the wreck. Their vantage position allowed them to sneak above two more ork on patrol, that seemed more occupied with punching each other than in keeping the perimeter safe. As Argus had ventured the creep under the xenos feet gave way, breaking under their weight, but after a short moment it seemed to heal itself, making the damage disappear.

As they moved deeper into the Space Hulk the orange substance seemed more prevalent, covering the wall's lower end in thickening slobs. Soon the creep was prevalent in every surface and Ernst was thankful that they had chosen the vents, that remained clear. As this thoughts crossed his mind he saw Argus raise his hand signaling a stop. Soon the Marine Errant voice resonated inside his helmet thanks to the short range vox.

"The auspex is catching a large concentration of life forms up ahead. If we backtrack we might be able to advance through a lateral corridor, but it would take time. Orders?"

Ernst had to admit to himself, that even if he had been uppity before he didn't really enjoy command. It had been the Mortifactor's duty to worry about the squad's directions, his task was to keep them fit to keep moving. Now he missed Taltos short speeches, and clear orders, had the Sergeant doubted like he did now?

"We keep going. Extraction is expected in two hours. We need to move fast if we are to have a chance."

"Aye."

With that they kept moving. What expected them was the unexpected. There were two orks, who unlike the ones that they had previously encountered had their hands up to their forearms died in white. They also carried long coats, not dissimilar in cut to a Comissar's greatcoat but white. Atop it they wore a bulky backpack from which they hang a large collection of self crafted minute tools, that Ernst would be offended to compare to an apothecary's equipment. The orks seemed unaware of the observing presence. Both focused intently in the creep below their feet. There it was the thickest and had dark green moss patches over it. Then it rippled and stretched small fissures forming across the surface oozing a thick broth not dissimilar to bloody mud. As the things tension became apparent the Kill Team could make forms and shapes below it, with horror they soon realized what the auspex had detected earlier. As it dawned on them with a burst the newborn ork ripped the creep away.

Ernst had seen many orks in his time, both with the Red Scorpions and with the Deathwatch. The emerging creature only resembled one in broad strokes. While in the Ordo Xenos' chamber militant he had also dealt with genestealer, and their insidious cults. With such knowledge he could clearly tell that the newly spawned thing was infested.

As it tried to arise and stand the two white handed orks throw themselves at it, holding it tightly with superior body mass and experience. The hybrid tried to set itself free, utilizing its extra limb for advantage. The orks headbutted it repeatedly, bringing it down to a submissive concussion. Apparently satisfied with their new kindred they dragged him towards the next room.

"Argus don't loose them, the Deathwatch needs to know of this."

Sneakily the space marines moved through the vents reaching the next room. There they saw yet another xenos species. It looked like a bloated worm, it's thick carapace stretched and barely covering it's spine. What appeared to be the head was covered by a powerful faceplate but it was it's mouth that got their attention. The thing had uncountable tendrils falling from it's open maw, extending downwards in a cascade. As it felt the orks presence they lurked forward, reaching for them, savoring the air in front of it in anticipation. Ernst didn't recognize the strain, but the Black Dragon did.

"That's a zerg infestor. We encountered them in Aegis VII."

The zerg, prevalent aliens that might had appeared around the Imperial borders seventy years or so ago. The zerg were by all accounts savage unorganized highly dimorphic organisms. At first they had been wrongly cataloged as an orkoid subspecies, due to their first contacts happening in ork infested worlds. When they had been finally observed on their own, forming small colonies in death worlds, the studies were reviewed. Now most Magos Biologis believed that they had some sort of basic genetic manipulation, explaining the huge variation among zerg species. It was theorized that they could be capable of replicating other creatures but it was hard to tell, as zerg organisms didn't have similarity with known species. Some of the darkest and most discredited theories draw a similarity in method if not in form with the tyranid, but no relation had been previously reported.

They had though been linked to the orks, and not only due to their first contact. The zerg were believed to somehow thrive in hostile environment, adapting to their surroundings in few generations, growing distinct and diverse. This and the brutal ork kultur might explain the symbiotic dependance exhibited by some zerg strains. The zerg were in part at fault for the rise from feral tribe to small klan. The White Hand Klan warboss, known as Bugklaw had had a meteoric rise to the spotlight fighting zerg. He had earned his name for scavenging the dead zerg's claws and arming his boyz and himself with them. But as he rose from feral to waagh level warboss his demeanor started to change. Using more and more of their enemies in his tactics. At first it had been claws, then the carcass had followed, the most veteran amongst it's crew had armors handcrafted with zerg barbed hide. The next step had been full living zerg organisms, at first it had been captured, looted, creatures. But the final, and logical, conclusion had been the rise of zerg creatures numbers in Bugklaw's Waagh.

Ork genelootaz, as the genestealer infested hybrids were commonly referred, theoretically held an extremely low position in ork pragmatic society. It was rumored that as long as they fought for the orks and not against them the creatures could be tolerated. They were though almost never heard off, the few exceptions limited to the crew of the most desperate freeboterz, to the point of being believed nonexistent by xenobiologist. It appeared that Bugklaw's entrepreneurship to use other xenos species had given them a space among his waaagh. In fact, now that Ernst thought about it, the cults enhanced fecundity and the use of zerg auxiliary might very well be the reason for the warboss' rise.

The Red Scorpion readjusted the mission parameters. Bugklaw needed to be terminated, that much was certain, and as it had been before it was still the main objective. But now they needed to survive. It was paramount that the deathwatch knew of the genestealer cult among the orks and the first zerg and tyranid reported connection.

As all this thoughts were cropping atop the apothecary's mind his eyes were vigilant. What happened below only empowered his resolution. The two orks threw his hybrid brethren into the infestor's overextend tendrils. The zerg enveloped and swallowed it whole before the hybrid could do anything against it. The monster stomach grew even bigger. It didn't take long till as moments before the ork inside it was born, again. The zerg had changed it further giving it spikes and tentacles jutting from it's upper torso.

The white robed orks took the new spawn which this time didn't oppose, perhaps enthralled by the infestor closeness, and held him against the ground. Then with sharp and precise movements started operating. As a space marine apothecary Ernst was accustomed to treat advanced meta-humans that felt no pain and knew no fear. He also had served in the deathwatch long enough to know the ins and outs of ork endurance. One thing was knowing and another one was seeing. The painboyz, for that was what they were, cut without an instant of doubt all the un-orky parts. The patient endured stoically, much better than Ernst himself would do, as they cut his extra arms off. The procedure continued with fire the protruding extra bits were seared off by a plasma cutter. It was a terrible image, seeing the aliens inflicting such calculated violence while the victim laid in utter silence. After that watching them make him whole again wasn't much better. They produced ork limbs in different states of decay from their backpacks that they cut and adjusted to fit the fallen ork. Ernst was certain that even among orks not many could survive such treatment leaving the painboyz with ample genre to draw from.

This particular ork did make it. Once the painboyz retreated he stood, initially dumbfounded before reaching for the creep in the wall and tearing a big chunk. He threw it in its mouth and started biting earnestly. The alien was hungry, that drew a chuckle from one of the others. The painboyz observed as the new ork fed and one of them pulled the mutated discarded arm. It started to peel it with expert hands, revealing a big long central claw hat had two smaller ones fused into it. The zerg infestation had merged the three genestealer upper claws in one longer and stronger. It was that claw that was now crafted into a weapon.

"Go to da warboss, runt."

The painboy threw the long claw at the ork, that caught it and started marching across the corridors. It looked lik an ork, moved like an ork, it smelled like an ork, but was it an ork? Ernst wasn't sure.

"Follow him, he will lead us to the target."

He was sure of that.

The target, warboss Bugklaw wasn't far. In hindsight he was hard to miss. The ork stood as tall as an ogryn, encased in an armor fashioned from the bleached bones, skulls, claws and fangs from several large zerg organisms. His helmet was fashioned from a queen's segmented faceplate, falling as a mane behind his back. An ultralisk's bone plate and horn had been fashioned in his chest armor's centerpiece, the bone truncated but still sharp and menacing. Several claws and bones finished his pectoral protection, rattling menacingly each time the warboss moved. His shoulders were covered with emptied roaches' torsos. But the most menacing of all where his hands. They were covered each in a large power klaw fashioned with the torn appendixes of many minor zerg organisms.

Behind the warboss, stood two superb ork organisms. Each would have been enough to be a warboss in their own right, but now were relegated merely to bodyguard's position. As if such a fearsomely armed monster needed guarding. In contrast to their leader they were unarmored, their only clothing being the zerg leather pants they wore and a tightly fitted black helmet marked with the white hand glyph. They also carried claws, but instead of a bunch fashioned in a crude klaw theirs was a big fracking sword crafted from what appeared to be a whole ultralisk scythe.

That was the moment of truth. Their primary objective was in front of them. Apothecary Ernst did understand what was at risk. While Bugklaw was unimpeded he would continue rampaging. With Bugklaw dead the waagh would be robbed of momentum and steam. For an instant he wished that they had simply torn the Ishimura from orbit, but the technology inside the ship was too important to risk. It came down to personal close combat. The apothecary took his chainsword's grip and looked at his companions.

"It seems there is one for each. Ancalagon go for the Warboss, Argus the bodyguard at his right is yours, the other is mine. At the count of three. One."

Extraction would come later. It would be troublesome because it would mean running around the wasps nests after kicking it repeatedly. That was going to be a hard one. But hopefully, a problem to crack later.

"Two."

Of course. They could die, or worse, in the coming fight.

"Three."

The three of them jumped down and started running.

"For Vilamus!" Argus fired his naval bolter singlehandedly as he ran. His weapon spat hellfire rounds accurately at his target's chest. "Fire and Bone!" Ancalagon threw himself at melee his bony protrusions sharp towards the warboss' bone armor. "Strength in Purity!" Ernst moved fast lashing with the chainsword towards the ork's helmet.

They had taken the aliens by surprise. There were no more orks close. It was the perfect chance. It all happened fast. Argus bolter round's explode against an invisible wall that stood in front of the bare chested ork, that didn't even grunt in amazement. The creature's hands clasped his weapon and they descended with such a fatal speed that the Marine Errant lost his arm and bolter in one stroke. He didn't have time to shout in pain. Bugklaw's klaws closed around the Black Dragon's adamantium sheathed bone growths stopping him in place. The marine headbutted the ork, pushing himself forward and slamming his sharpened crest against the monster's helmet. That made the beast bleed and chuckle, pulling the astartes close in an embrace that ended with extreme prejudice against the protruding horn in his codpiece. Ernst for his part had little better luck. His chain sword which was bisected when the ork's blade hit it. The bolter gun in his hand barked some rounds that didn't reach the target, stopping in midair as if the feral had a thick invisible armor like his brother's.

Argus fell back, his body releasing pain dulling combat drugs as he tried to adjust to the missing hand. His remaining one reached for a weapon, closing around the sergeant's power sword. "Face Taltos' blade, xeno scum, and die. Ave Imperator Morti factori te salutant!" He spun in blinding fury. The still bleeding stump threw vitae towards the ork monster that was soon mixed with the beast's as was cut once and once again. The ork large weapon barely being able to divert the power weapon aside.

Ancalagon the Black Dragon roared something intelligible, something that stood in the scary tight point between pure undiluted rage and blissful laughter. As the ultralisk horn stood in his innards and the warboss held his arms in place he laughed. And as he laughed he rammed his head against the ork, such was his strength in doing so that his own helmet started to crack open. Adamantium pieces interring themselves profoundly in the warboss head along with the dragon's crest.

The shock at realizing that the creature was a psyker threw Ernst back. His bolter would prove ineffective if the monster could keep the rounds at bay the best he would get was an explosion to close for his liking. His chainsword was broken in two useless pieces. But he wasn't weaponless. He was deathwatch and he still had his intellect and training. He recognized his enemies helmet. He had fought the tau and their vespid allies in many occasions, he had seen the stingwing's helmet up close and he now recognized the similarity. Discarding his ruined weapon he reached for his diagnostor helmet, which he unfastened fast, and slammed at the beast knee before it could react. As the creature fell the apothecary Betcher's gland filled his mouth with vile venom. The astartes lunged forward closing the distance between the ork and himself, drawing their bodies closers nullifying the sword's larger reach. Then when his eyes were leveled with the tiny black eye slits in the xenos helmet he spat. The powerful acid started chewing the mask leaving the alien transfixed in a moment of shock. As the helmet fell Ernst saw its resemblance. It's head could have been taken for that of an ork at first sight but the resemblance was little. The most striking trait were its eyes, two golden hourglasses against black studied the Red Scorpion with alien awareness. Those weren't the only strange features, it also lacked the prevalent greenskin ears, its lower jaw was bisected allowing his mouth to open further than would be otherwise possible. The mouth was filled with fangs thinner, sharper and whiter than those normal in an ork, reminding the apothecary of a lamprey. Its skin was smooth, clean and uniform beyond what Ernst had seen in any other greenskin, there were no stitches nor signs of operation. While the other orks had shown slight mutations and symptoms of corruption they could still be recognized as orks, at least after the painboyz had treated them. This? This was a whole other story. It was whole, it hadn't been patched up, this creature wasn't really corrupted. It was corruption itself. If such a creature had formed with a human at its base the deathwatch would have classified it as a Magus. A terrific psyker that drew from the cult gestalt to unleash supreme mind powers. But that was in human's case, this was an ork, and those already have a collaborative psychic field. Not to speak of a brutal strength. And that was all well before whatever the zerg had changed in it. The astartes didn't feel fear, but for a moment it feel a reasonable doubt.

When the thing regained it's senses, a moment was all it need, it moved it's hand as if trying to backhand the apothecary. It didn't reach him. The psychic punch preceding the hand hit him with the strength of a rampagious dreadnought and flung him far away, like a discarded broken rag doll. Apothecary Ernst couldn't do much for his companions, his power armor caved in torn beyond repair. Depowered it refused to move, his broken bones and bleeding flesh refused to move. As his will screamed in agony for its body to move, for it's consciousness to stay, but it wouldn't listen. Soon the hibernator betrayed him, forcing the sus-an embrace in his senses.

Argus kept slashing, hacking, tearing, cutting, lacerating, wounding, chipping, carving his enemy. He could have been caressing the ork for all the damage it did him. The creature bled but as it did its wounds started clotting and closing. Argus didn't tire. It would fall. By a thousand cuts if necessary. The ork did tire though. It jumped backwards, distancing itself from the astartes and raising his blade. The weapon fell in a descending cut. The slash would have been amusing if the Marine Errant had still worn his original paint scheme. Where that the case the blue would have been separated from the white. In the equalizing black of the deathwatch the cut was simply utterly lethal.

Only Ancalagon remained. Only the mission remained to him. Terminate the warboss. Nothing else mattered. It didn't matter as the two bodyguard's came towards him. It didn't matter as the klaw's around his sharpened protuberances pulled hard drawing bone and tearing flesh. Pain didn't matter. He kept bashing the ork with all his might even as the creature impaled his back in his still bloody ossmodula improved and mutated radius.

≡**][≡**

When his treasonous suspended animation released back in the world of the living an unfamiliar face was looking at him. Ernst discarded his first instinct, spitting the strong acid that had given the Red Scorpions their heraldry, as he released that the face pertained to a fellow space marine. A space marine that wasn't in his kill team. An unknown.

"Try not to move, too much."

The astartes head was crowned with dark brown curls and a stub framed his face. His eyes were strong and shone with the brightness of a dawning sun, almost belittling his age. But his stud services didn't lie, the marine was at least three hundred years old, and judging by the most recent marking had at least served for fifty years in the deathwatch. The Red Scorpion perceptiveness didn't miss the fact that the man was without armor, probably a prisoner like him.

"Why?"

"Because you needed healing. What's your name brother?"

"I'm Brother Apothecary Ernst, from the Red Scorpions."

"Nice to meet you Brother Apothecary Ernst, from the Red Scorpions. I'm Asklepios also an apothecary, from the Iron Snakes. Try to move your fingers in the left hand, do you feel them?"

Ernst did as instructed, under the other Apothecary scrupulous gaze.

"Good. First the good news, you are alive Ernst, the Emperor will call you to fight another day, your left arm is better than it seems which is good. Now the bad news, your right leg is beyond what I can heal without a Narthecium, I've resettled the bone but it has multiple fractures you won't be able to walk by yourself for a while. Also, we are captured, as you can probably guess."

Asklepios jest and smile at the last sentence drew a thin grin from Ernst. Ernst looked around and saw where they were. It was a big room, probably a cargo hold fully enclosed in the prevalent orange creep that they had found aplenty aboard the Ishimura. It's walls were smooth and shone with a dim light that while offering illumination distorted the colors. The surface smoothness was alien, featureless. He pushed it far from his mind, there wasn't much sense on focusing on it. He looked back at the Iron Snake.

"I don't think I've ever seen you in the apothecarion of Watch Fortress Landa, Asklepios. Aren't you Deathwatch?"

"Oipho. No, I mean, yes. I'm Deathwatch. Watch Fortress Spear though. When the Ishimura was spotted out of the warp we launched a raid trying to recover the technology. Our team was ambushed. Where are we?"

"We boarded well beyond the borders of the Segmentum, the Ishimura has been drifting without apparent course. We probably are north of Ultima Macharia, and west of Sabatine, unless the ship has increased its speed or made a warp translation. Have we made a warp jump? How long have I been unconscious?"

Asklepios simply negated.

"Tracking time is complicated but about four hours. Are we expecting reinforcements?"

Probably no. If the extraction team hadn't been reached via long range vox they would have retreated. Then it would be on the watch commander's lap to send a vengeance operation or to gather more intel before striking. If Ernst had to bet on watch commander's Crassus course of action, he would put his faith in the later. No, there wasn't going to be a rescue. Nor reinforcements.

"Doubtful, even if they are we have no promises of living long enough till they get here. Chances are dimmer if we stay put and wait in this cell. Escape plan?"

"There isn't much to work with. We are in a cell, the walls, floor and ceiling seem organic and they have been impervious to any damage I've tried to inflict them. I didn't even know that the roof could open till you dropped and it closed after you, once I was sure you were stable I checked the roof trying to find a structural vulnerability. No luck."

"Any guard? Are they feeding us?"

"Not as far as I can tell. As I said the walls are organic and our enhanced physiology is able to digest it. I don't recommend it for the taste though, even sea snake excrement would taste better. I even considered eating my way out but I doubt it would be good on me, not only on my taste buds. Any idea?"

"Orks don't take prisoners. This aren't normal orks though, did you see the hybrids?"

"There seems to be some hybridization with zerg organisms, but it is mostly symbiotic."

"I mean the Tyrannid hybrids, Genestealer."

"Genelootaz? They normally keep to themselves on the under levels of space hulks, most orks don't like them much, consider them not orky enough. How advanced was the infection? Did you see any pure strain?"

"No pure strain, but there were at least two Magus."

"That's impossible, unless we are dealing with two genestealer cults. Which would mean two pratiarchs. They wouldn't get along, and besides that would attract the hive mind fast. It is..."

"Da marine-boyz iz cunnin'."

One of the walls had retracted exposing Bugklaw. The warboss was even more intimidating now that his armor was covered in gore clearly ripped from the Ancalagon's entrails. What was worse the warboss had emptied the Black Dragon's skull and fashioned a new visor for himself, the dragon's crest a bloody memory of his squad mate. Ernst couldn't help but let the rage in him take hold. As an apothecary he knew that rage, pure and undiluted murderous fury, was a hell of an anesthesic. His broken leg stopped hurting. It even stood his weight as he threw himself against the warboss.

The giant ork wasn't impressed. He raised one of his klaws, which was still pristine white due to the power field keeping the blood at bay, and encircled Ernst head with it. The claws were drawing blood from the astartes cheeks and keeping him in place.

"Lissen ta me wen I'z talkin' to ya! Enuff killz."

The warboss sounded exasperated, tired as if an astartes charging at him was no reason to worry. He raised his other klaw, signaling the ork magus to step forward. Both their faces were once again hidden behind black smoth helmets marked with the white hand, but Ernst couldn't help but remember what was behind those helmets. They were pristine once again, Argus cuts had disappeared not leaving a scar. Those monsters could heal that much in four hours?

"Get dem boyz."

The feral orks moved fast, were healed, well rested and fed. Asklepios and Ernst resisted to no avail. Each of them was hauled by a xenos, with a crushing strength that kept them in their grasp. Ernst leg caved in under the pressure and at the warboss' sign he was pushed unceremoniously.

"You see. Da marine-boy iz smart." The warboss touched his head with one of the klaw's sharp nails. "Da orkz take bugz. Da bugz are tough. Da bugz stomp, chop an kill. Da'z gud. Da boyz need enemies ta fight. Da boyz harder in da battle."

Then he signaled at the hybrids that were keeping the Astartes in check.

"Da zerg, da genelootaz, gud. Ork-boyz strong. Bugklaw knowz. Don't ya?"

Ernst had seen full well how strong they really were. And a glance at They made the rest of the way in silence, through a corridor that seemed to form as they moved, worming through the nydus network. Finally they reached their destination.

There was what appeared to be a bridge in the ground, with openings at both sides. It wasn't truly a bridge though, more like a wall. Walking on its edge they could see what was at both sides. And it was something terrifying on its implication.

Genestealers, from two completely different strains tried to claw their way up. On one side it was what appeared to be specimens from hive fleet Kraken, probably taken from some battlefield after the fall of Medusa V, the others exhibited the colors of hive fleet Dagon, a Behemoth's off shoot. Both groups of specimens showed ample variation from normal genestealer, being larger and bulkier, probably due to the influence of ork dna.

"See? Da orkz hav bugz ter stomp. I know summink you know. Da orkz fight bugz. Big in Octarius. Da White Handz want some. Da White Handz bring bugz. Da marine-boyz know now."

They fought, they knew that that information was vital to the Deathwatch, they needed to know. Making out of there alive had just jumped up in their priority list. The warboss knew that, there had to be a really twisted reason for him telling them that. And as they soon found out, there was.

They were taken deeper inside the Space Hulk, as they moved forward more and more of the corridors appeared to be fully enclosed with creep. It was then that zerg organisms started being more prevalent. Zerglings seemed to patrol everywhere, even through the passages atop the pipes and on the vents. Giving Ernst the uneasy feeling that the orks were full aware of those ways of transit and that they had been allowed to infiltrate. Again he believed that the ork was purposely feeding them information, thing that made him more vigilant.

The place they reached didn't look like the places before. It was much warmer. Argus had been the expert on ships and his maps had been stripped but the Red Scorpion could gather that he was now in the machine's room. The massive plasma reactor under their feet was only partially obscured by a thin creep layer. It shone like a sun under a tinted orange glass.

"Fed da sun."

At the warboss order several zerglings started pulling carts across the creep, like a horse pulling a slide. Guiding them were orks. Most of them were still sporting fresh cuts and burns where they had been given the shape of an ork. Ernst had seen them for what they truly where before, but Asklepios was dawning to the knowledge realizing what the replaced limbs and scars actually meant. Each ork was infected with genestealer and zerg dna before being beaten back into the shape of an ork. Such creature should have had a strong, unwavering loyalty towards the tyranid hive mind, they weren't called cults for nothing. But Bugklaw had subverted that. He had branded them with the white hand and taken control of not one but two cults. And he was moving towards Octarius.

Octarius, Kryptman's folly, had seen a whole hive fleet thrown at an ork empire only to see how both forces fighted to a stalemate. Nothing short of throwing the whole deathwatch and exterminatus a plenty towards the planets would actually have a chance of killing them off. And the Imperium was busy, as long as Octarius stalemate remained it was doubtful that they would dedicate true forces to it. But if the stalemate was broken... the winner would be far stronger than anything they had encountered before.

As the orks cut a hole in the creep and released the cart's content Ernst started to realize Bugklaw's true agenda. Discarded ork body parts exhibiting ample tyranid or zerg corruption were being thrown into the plasma fires below. As they fell the creep started to close again separating the orks from the corruption to be cleansed. The reactor vaporized the remains, as they fell on it the sun licked them to ash. The vapors and fumes that escaped the dirtied plasma reactor started to build up under the creep concentrating. At first it was a gray mist but then little by little it started to gain color turning to purple for an instant before switching to misty green. It kept going soon eclipsing the miniature sun below.

"Kaptur da orkzine boyz!"

The Ishimura had at one time vampirized small planets. It had used thick drills connected to pipes to suck them dry. The orks had given those new purpose. They used them to hole through the ever regenerating creep into the mist. And they started drawing. The mist was pumped up by thick pipes. Pipes that hadn't had a martian priest realizing maintenance and prayers for long. Ork mechanics were ingenious, but weren't renowned for their capacity to keep things working well. There were leeks. The green intensity of the mist drew Ernst instinctively back, he had seen that mist before in the dirty bomb that had taken sergeant Taltos' life. The orks though seemed excited to be able to breath it and they started fighting each other to stand in front of the forming clouds. The apothecaries both observed horrified as something that couldn't have happened did happen. The scars and marks stitching them, disappeared as they breathed the gas in. Ernst knew how those orks had been formed, he had seen so himself, but now after breathing the "orkzine" their scars were healed they were fully orks once again. And that was just from a mild exposure, the truth was that they were pumping more, and more, driving it away.

By the time they had finished collecting the orkzine all the orks had taken some. It had changed them, making their scars disappear. Ernst considered that perhaps that was the method that the magus and Bugklaw had used to heal themselves back into shape, not wanting to attribute their regeneration to innate capabilities. He would have wondered what the effect would be in a space marine if he hadn't seen for himself how the Mortifactor had breathed some in. It would kill them.

"Da marine-boyz 'ave zome orkzine now."

What had killed the sergeant had been a dirty bomb, a grenade with barely some orkzine in it. What the orks procured were two breathing tanks, fitted for a voidsmen so he could breath when leaving the ship and do repairs in space. They were full, but the air had been replaced by the green substance. Ernst then realized that he had expected too much of the warboss, he had believed he would have them spared for some unfathomable reason. Maybe to spread his word. Perhaps to drive the deathwatch and the Imperium to fight over Octarius and give him some good killing. He had assumed too much of the xenos. It was a simple alien, an ork after all, and orks don't take prisoners.

They forced the breathing mask on him strapped it with full strength to his head. The powerful magus held him firmly rooted in place till his forces departed him. Once again the suspended animation kicked in as he was certain of his death.

≡**][≡**

"Diz iz gud dakka."

Feeling threatened made his senses kick back in. His eyes opened and there was a momentary disorientation that even the Lyman's ear took a second to adjust to. He was no longer aboard the Ishimura. He was at solid unworked ground with a starry night for a roof. By his side laid Asklepios, deep in suspended animation, and several corked trees. Past the Iron Serpent were a group of five orks and ten zergling. What appeared to be the leader was holding a long rectangular gun. Ernst recognized the weapon and wondered how had a Tau Ion rifle arrived to ork hands. The answer stood past the orks.

He appeared to be human, and if apothecary Ernst had known Alan Schezar or Marcius Velonious he would have had recognized traits of both of them in his figure. Yet he did not, as such the human looked well built but thin, with the pale skin that comes to one that has been born and breed at a space ship. His blond hair was long, kept loose at his back. He wore a simple white garment, cut in tau style.

"A whole box for each of the astartes. And another one for their white hands. That's the deal."

His voice smirked. There was a tiny hint of humor in his tone, as if taunting the orks was the greatest and funniest idea ever. The orks didn't seem to catch on the joke, too busy with their new toys. In Ernst experience they would probably use them to kill the merchant. Ernst started the process to wake up Asklepios, doing so without the narthecium was complicated but as an apothecary it fell under his knowledge. The orks seemed too focused on the human stranger, the Red Scorpion couldn't help but expect trouble.

"Deal."

The ork shacked hands with the human, whose hand didn't seem to be crushed under the xenos beast and signaled his fellows to pick up the three boxes. They carried them away into the forest. The zerg though stood, and Ernst realized that they hadn't been with the orks, they had been keeping tabs on them. The human was distracted he was holding two narthecium's one was his and the other one bearing the Iron Snake's sign had undoubtedly pertained to Asklepios. The human seemed to examine them masterfully, checking their contents. When it realized that the apothecary was studying him he gazed back and a voice stronger than any of his owns thoughts resounded into the Red Scorpion's mind.

**Your companion is lost, no need to try to wake him up. Extract his progenoids.**

He couldn't actually form a disagreeing word. He tried. But as he was going to retort his hands were trying to reach for an nonexistent narthecium and saw open Asklepios chest. He needed tools.

**Such great examples of bio engineering and human limitations. Tools.**

The white robed human tossed one of the captured narthecium to Ernst with contempt. He tried to wonder why was he actually thinking that and not killing the psyker that was in his mind. Or better yet extract the gene-seed from Asklepios body. He did so.

**Good. Now come, give it back. There are things to do.**

As his feet moved on his own he tried to speak. Which was difficult, a part of him knew that the psyker would explain things in due time. While another reminded him that one needs to burn the witch. Or was it the heretic? He did as ordered.

"What are you?"

Not who, whatever was in front of him wasn't human. It looked human, it moved like a human, it had talked like a human, but humans don't think inside your brain loud enough to make thinking difficult. No that thing wasn't remotely human. He knew. He was remotely human. He had been human, a child, at some point. The thing in front of him, it might be wearing a human, but it had never ever been one.

**I was called Broodfather, but there are more broods now. Overmind is fitting. We are simply Zerg.**

The alien hunters had theorized a possible existence of a zerg hive mind, something akin to the one associated with the tyranid. It was true that there was a cunning behind some of the creatures. But most had been encountered in far ranging planets, showing only interest in the orks and in extracting resources for themselves. No one had given them enough credit. No one had expected to actually be a coordinating intelligence from beyond Imperial borders, even the hive fleets needed synaptic creatures in the ground. The zerg hadn't shown any equivalent, they hadn't need any. They were controlled from an extreme range. For a moment Ernst tried to feel something other than warming pride at the thought of zerg superiority. He didn't succeed. Uneasy by the revelation he tried to focus his mind in a question.

"What do you want?"

**Evolution.**

That wasn't an answer that gave him much. Yes it was a grandiose goal, but far from reachable. Or easily accomplishable. It was too abstract. He could swear that he felt a moment of smug pride. Which was almost replaced by his own fear, or as close as an ex space marine could feel, when Ernst realized that he was actually feeling the creature's feelings.

Meanwhile Broodfather had directed him towards an encampment. It was protected with high structures atop which several fully armored humanoid forms stood vigilant. He didn't recognize the armor nor the weapons, but he or the Broodfather knew that those were CMC-225 armor and C-14 rifles. The things inside them were mostly human, or mostly zerg, depending if one worried about appearance or genetic integrity. Inside the fortification they reached a bunker through which they descended lower.

"What do you want from me?"

**We want you to do your purpose.**

They descended in silence. Ernst wasn't dealing with the cryptic crap he realized that if he had no choice but to obey, and he didn't. He would find soon enough what was wanted of him, and he did.

The lowest level of the bunker reached into a cave. The cave was high, housing four ultralisks that stood taller than any other zerg Ernst had seen before. The beasts looked at him and moved aside as he followed Broodfather to reveal a large barred door. At some point it might have been a munitorum storage facility, or something even more ancient, now it was reinforced with creep and tentacles mixing the organic with the metal frame. The thing moved, giving them way without the noise that one would come to expect of such a large structure.

It was a circular room. The ceiling had pupae hanging like ripe fruit. At first those tanks reminded him of the infestor that had ingested and infested the ork. But it wasn't exactly like that. The infestor was a weapon to be used in the field. Something quickly. Artless. Fit for the ork bluntness. The infestor's purpose was to inject zerg dna and force an evolutionary adaptation in minor species. The ones here had an opposite purpose. They were information storages, holding the captured species that had picked the zerg interest. Some pods were translucent enough to insinuate the lingering shadows of old occupants while others were clear enough to see the struggling prisoners. Vein like formations webbed the ceiling, as a large malignant plant roofing its seeds.

The zerg didn't discriminate. In the koprulu sector their focus had been in the human species due to their psychic potential but mostly due to the lack of other possible candidates for infestation. Now... They knew better than to focus only in humans. For sixty years the zerg had been in the galaxy, acting as uncoordinated beasts at the fringes of the imperium. The Ordo Xenos had believed them feral monsters, failing to see the leading hand behind them. A hand that had bid his time. Bugklaw and his White Hand klan had only been the first of many. The Ishimura like a ferocious shark of old terran myth had devoured the smaller fishes that had come it's way. And it had been prolific.

Eldar with the fine lines of the Craftworlds laid side by side with the raiders of Commorragh. Under the zerg the pirates and corsairs of either faction were once again united, as in mockery of their former differences. The zerg didn't care, they would use them as a step in the evolutionary ladder. Each was now roosted inside the zerg cocoons changing in different and unique ways. He couldn't help but throw a quick glance at the creature that had been Eldar at some point, but considered that him had also been an astartes. No, he was still an astartes, he needed to kill those damned psykers. He would bid his time... Behind them were a plethora of minor species, creatures that no doubt the Broodfather's scavengers had found among eldar crews. He could see medusae, sslyth, ur-ghuls, clawed fiends and even a gyrinx.

Besides the Eldar there were scores of Tau and their auxiliary. Members of the fire, earth, water and air castes were more or less common. Ernst couldn't really see any interest in those creatures, he didn't know why, or even why he knew it, but he knew that the Zerg looked for psychic potential. The Tau lacked that, but the zerg seemed to be aware of the xenos high capacity for mingling with other species. Judging by their accompanying chrysalis Ernst could see that. Kroot organisms stood intermingled with vespids, tarellians, demiurgs and even nicassar. The central piece among the tau expository was the thing that Broodfather believed to make that possible. A single ethereal was kept in custody.

Another quarter of the cave was filled with xenos that he could barely classify. The biggest tank contained what could only be identified as an enslaver, an almost mythical creature, how had the zerg captured such a specimen was anyone's guess. Creatures that fit the Rak'Gol descriptions were intermixed with some centaurlike monsters that could give an ork a run for their money. Reptilian Loxatl seemed out of place besides the elusive hrud. Other creatures that Ernst couldn't identify were blue skinned, tall and without a mouth, long tendrils sprang from the back of their angular heads. Protoss, something whispered in his mind.

The last section held orks, nothing was sacred to the zerg in their quest. They might use the white hand clan as a cracking tool but they still held their fallen in storage. The orks where surrounded in green gas clouds, not dissimilar to the ones he had seen killing his sergeant and filling his lungs. He probably had died then. The thought now dawned on him. For the first time he raised his hand to his chest. His black carapace was bloated green tendrils had solidified over it forming scales. Ernst would have felt fear but zerg didn't experience it.

They finally reached the centerpiece. A chrysalis was growing from the ground. It's walls were of a clear, showing a green cloud inside. The mist parted at places revealing a limb or a feature before hiding it again. As Ernst observed he could make a shadow inside. It had the size of a human jube its figure was hooked by thin long tendrils. One connected it's belly to a thick vine creep below the pod, no doubt feeding it and keeping it alive. Others thinner ones were drilled into its spine giving Ernst the fleeting memory of novitiates. But the creature wasn't human. It had never been.

The white hand klan knew that eldar paid well. The broodfather paid their weight in dakka and who were they to complain? When they had devoured the small dark eldar frigate they had been more than happy to take prisoners. They weren't the first to do so, in the dark ridden gallows they had found a treasure. Wrapped in regal smooth silks and ferocious scaly hides and held in places by black capricious chains there was another eldar. She was bloody but fierce, and they "rescued" her suspecting this special eldar would earn a big reward. They got their price, more than they expected, and more than they believed Broodfather would pay. He would have paid even more. And twice that. For the eldar was pregnant.

As the realization hit Ernst Broodfather knelt by the tank, reaching for the nartheciums under his robe. Those tools were the last vestige of the Red Scorpion's legacy. He vilified the reductor pressing it against the creep by the pod. Paralyzed with horror the apothecary observed as the monster perverted the tool. Instead of taking a progenoid it injected one. The gene rich material sapped into the creep and was taken through the main cordon connected to the belly. Ernst could see the dark form of the implant going upwards to the body. Broodfather didn't stop there. He injected more. He emptied the two narthecium.

Ernst was on his knees. He tried to fight it. He tried to fight it back. He tried to at least shout in rage. No sound parted them. He looked into the pod and the fogs cleared. The monster looked back at him. It had deep eyes, with big jet pupils framed by a kaleidoscopic nightmare of raging colors. He tried to avert his gaze, he tried to feel a righteous rage and hate the aberration, but the zerg had deprived of it. Instead he feel admiration, a desire to protect it, it was overwhelming. He was a space marine, one of the Emperor's finest, a Red Scorpion, a Deathwatch. He was not a zerg. He was not mindless. He was not going to let them do with him as they pleased. He was not. He was going to kill and die.

He snapped. He was weaponless but an astartes is a weapon. The perfect weapon. His arms were heavy at his side, he wasn't able to lift them. It didn't matter. His feet were lead pinning him in place, he wasn't able to move them. It didn't matter. He drew all his vile, his hate, his rage. It flooded over the imposed admiration. He let it build up inside him rising like an unstoppable tide. And then he spat it.

The acid hit the pod and it started melting it. The fumes were soon mixed with the green cloud that shimmered inside it. The green cloud that had killed him once. For an instant his captor was taken aback by his rage. An instant is all he needed. All the tension he had build up threw into motion, his fist was catapulted at ballistic speed towards the zerg abomination.

It was as if he had hit an adamantium wall. His bones snapped with a loud crack. He threw his other arm and this time the creature didn't simply take the hit. It took his arm under its clawed hands and pulled hard tearing it from the shoulder in a bloody rain. The zerg monster rose from the wrecked pod.

It's form was humanoid. Lithe as an eldar creature. It's feet were inhuman, having two fingers and two opposed thumbs, each tipped with a crystalline claw. The flesh from its limbs had an emerald hue that darkened as it reached its chest, turning almost into black. Flat chested the thing had a milky white crystal sprouting slightly above where a human would have had it's heart. The thing's arms ended in hands identical to its feet one was holding the torn astartes arm, while the other was simply caressing the air. It's head was long and angular, a strong mouth without lips seemed to curl in an attempted smile. It's ears were long like those of its mother's people. Its upper head was covered with long nerve cords that looked like untame dreadlocks.

The creature stood over the fallen astartes. It discarded the arm to the sided and held him by his shoulders. Then it shook him hard, slamming his head against the ground till it cracked. It lowered it's jaw and cut deep before swallowing a thick piece of meat.

Brother Apothecary Ernst was dying. And as he was doing so he saw through his memories. His oldest and dearest moments as a Red Scorpion and later as he stood the Vigil. He couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't the only one remembering.

**Time is running short. The Inquisitor and the terrans are here it won't take long for them to try and to stop the swarm. Devour his memories and knowledge. Be ready to fight them.**

≡**][≡**


End file.
